The Fog
by WhiteZeo
Summary: (COMPLETE) Blake does a little musing on Blue Bay Harbor's weather.


**_*Note:_**_ BVE owns Power Rangers, I own nothing, not even the fog, which I would never want to own. :P_

The Fog  
Written By: WhiteZeo 

Closing the windows as it starts to get chilly, I look out on the view of the city that I have. 

Normally, during the day, our small studio apartment has an expansive view of Blue Bay Harbor. Off to the left is the business district with its tall towers and high-rises easily seen, though far off in the distance. If you scan your eyes rightward, you can see the dome top of city hall front and center, the civic center building not too far away. To the right are residential districts with beautifully styled houses of the earlier twentieth century; the city certainly has its history, even before the evil space ninjas and Power Rangers showed up. On perfectly clear days, you can even see all the way to the boardwalk and to the bay for which the city is named. 

Tonight, like almost every other night, the fog has rolled in from the water and has blanketed the entire city, ruining the idyllic city landscape. I can barely see down the street, florescent golden yellow streetlamps hazy in the distance. There's one stoplight I can see, flickering from green to yellow to red, on the street that runs up to our complex. The bright lights of downtown illuminate the fog as it reflects the flashes of cars headlights to down to the blinking neon signs. The porches of the nearby houses are lit with bright porch lamps and the apartments just across the way are lit warmly as people carry on with their nightly routines. 

When we first moved to Blue Bay Harbor, I hated the fog. It was dense and cold and confusing. Even on a summer day in the middle of July, it could be foggy and damp. I was a summer child, born and raised in the warmer parts of California when I lived with my biological parents. After getting adopted, we still lived in a fairly warm area - nowhere near Blue Bay. It was only after the deaths of our adopted parents and the capture of Sensei Amano that Hunter and I moved to Blue Bay Harbor and I experienced my first true brush with cold weather. 

Like I said before, I hated it. 

Hunter loved it though, and still does to this day; he's Mr. Broody, why wouldn't he love it? That's probably the one thing that we can't agree on: the stupid weather. 

The cold weather always felt more smothering to me that the hot. Fog and rain and wind always forced me inside for warmth and kept me from doing the normal things that I wanted to do. And when I couldn't do anything, I would think. And then I'd become a miniature Hunter doing the brooding thing, something I can't do well at all. Dwelling on things past, it's just not my thing. I prefer to move forward and make new memories. 

After living here for so many years though, I think I've come to embrace the fog and cold. I've gotten used to it if anything else and Blue Bay Harbor has offered me much more good opportunities that somehow make up for the crappy weather. 

"Blake, what does this kanji mean?" 

I draw myself away from the window and glance over at my girlfriend. She's lying on her stomach, her blonde hair twisted messily into a bun secured by a pen and biting on the end of a pencil in her mouth. Confusion is written all over her face as she holds up her Japanese book for me to see, her blue eyes so open and honest and loving. 

I make my way back to where we were studying for our Japanese midterm and lie down beside her on the bed. She smiles, curls herself closer to me, and flips the book around. "Which one?" I ask, examining the page. 

"This one." She points to a somewhat simplistic-looking kanji character at the bottom. "I forgot what it meant." 

"I think that's the verb, "to reflect," but I'm not sure." 

"Alright. I'll look it up, just in case." 

As she turns to the glossary in the back of the book, I return my gaze momentarily back to the fog-ridden night before looking back at Tori as she diligently searches for the kanji character's meaning. 

Like I said before, I **hated** the fog. Not anymore. Now, I wouldn't give it up for anything. 


End file.
